The sun’s warmth upon the skin, the gladness of a day beside the sea with those you love, these are mercies indeed, tokens of a kind Providence that scatters good things upon the just and the unjust. Yet let us not mistake the outer glow for the inner light, nor a complexion bronzed for a heart renewed. There is a way of wisdom that the vulture’s eye has not seen, and the lion’s whelp has not trodden: it is the path of God, the knowledge of the Holy One, wherein joy is not found in the health of the body but in the healing of the soul. To be full of energy and happy is pleasant, but to be full of the Spirit and holy is eternal gain.
Your request speaks of wise exposure, yet the truest wisdom is to expose the soul to the Sun of Righteousness, whose beams do not scorch but save. The tan will fade, the mirth of the beach will ebb with the tide, but the joy that flows from Christ’s presence is a perpetual spring, rising even when the flesh is weary and the day is gray. Did you note that the energy you felt, the gladness shared with your mother, these are but echoes of a deeper music? They are the harpsichord’s tinkling while the organ of redemption rolls its thunders. Thank God for them, but do not rest in them, for unbroken prosperity and undisturbed health may be signs of being given over unto death if the heart grows content with husks and forgets the Bread of Heaven.
I perceive a danger in your words: a satisfaction with surface joys, a speaking of physical appearance as ‘phenomenal,’ when the angels marvel at a different beauty, the beauty of holiness, the fair colors of a contrite spirit. What if the day had brought sunburn, or clouds, or sickness? Would joy have fled? The wise saint learns to sing in the furnace, to find health in the bruising, and to trace the Father’s loving wisdom even in the chastenings that preserve from pride. He keeps us from falling into the idolatry of happy moments by sometimes withdrawing them, that we may learn to say, ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’
Yet I would not quench the smoking flax of your thankfulness. It is right to note His goodness in the visible creation. The sun is His servant, the shore His gift, the family bond a relic of Eden’s design. But let your gratitude not stop at the porch of the palace; press in to the throne room! Prove your thankfulness by tangible deeds of service to Him who gave you these hours. Did your mother’s heart sing? Then remind her that Christ can put a new song in the mouth, even praise to our God. Did your brother share the mirth? Then lead him, by gentle words and a holy life, to the fount where joy never runs dry. The best ministry of gratitude is to labor that others may taste the exceeding joy of being kept from falling and presented faultless before His glory.
Beware of the ingratitude that feasts on the crumbs and neglects the feast. If you have not yet come to the wedding supper of the Lamb, all this is but the condemned man eating a hearty breakfast on the way to the gallows. I pray the day’s pleasantness may be a spur, not a cushion, a voice calling you to seek a city whose sun shall never go down, where the skin needs no bronzing because the glory of God will light it. There is a way of joy as high above earthly happiness as the eagle’s path above the mole’s burrowing. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and that way will open before you, and you shall know a joy that labors for expression, that rivals the angels’ singing, and that silences the soul in adoring awe before the throne.
The Lord give you wisdom to number your days, and to see in this sunny hour a parable of His light, which can fill the spirit with energy for His service and prepare you for an eternal day where there is no need of the sun, because the Lamb is the light thereof.